


Baby Bird

by RedTeamShark



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Author Chose Not To Tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-17
Updated: 2013-12-17
Packaged: 2019-09-07 07:15:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16849546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedTeamShark/pseuds/RedTeamShark
Summary: Ryan comes home from his first semester at college to find that his mother has taken up a less-than-traditional way of dealing with her “empty nest.”





	Baby Bird

**Author's Note:**

> Proper warnings, tags, etc, may come in the future. For the time being I'm frantically transferring my content to a stable platform amidst growing concerns about tumblr's inevitable implosion.
> 
> Apologies for flooding the fandom page.

“Oh, and I have a surprise for you when you get home.” Ryan’s mom mentioned just before she hung up the phone. The brunette teen frowned slightly, shrugging and hanging up his cell phone, dropping it into his pocket. He finished loading clothes into his bags, checking the room one last time to make sure he had everything he’d need for the Christmas break before heading out of the dorm room. His roommate had left a few hours previous and most of the rest of the residents of his hall were gone, though he stopped in to say goodbye to a few friends on the way to his car.

“Have a good Christmas, man.” Ryan waved with a smile, unlocking his car and loading his bags into it. He settled behind the wheel, turning the radio up and rolling the windows down as he left the campus and headed for the highway. It was only a three hour drive home, but that was just long enough that he hadn’t been home since Thanksgiving. He wasn’t really thinking about this ‘surprise’ that his mom had mentioned as he drove, figuring it was just cookies or something similar. Maybe she’d finally bought the new refrigerator she was always talking about getting.

He took the exit ramp from the highway, passing through the closest thing he’d had to a city growing up, really nothing more than a gas station, a Walmart, and an apartment complex at the off-ramp. Slow roads brought him to an even smaller town, boasting the combination repair garage and used car lot where he’d bought his car, a pizza place where he’d taken several dates despite the poor health code adherence, and almost nothing else of commerce. Another twenty minutes or so brought him to his own wide place in the road, a mostly-residential area with a discount electronics repair shop, a feed mill, and a gas station. The closest thing there was to a traffic light was the orange street light at the stop sign, which would occasionally blink on and off if the wind was particularly strong.

Rolling to a smooth stop and looking at all the familiarity of a small town should have had some nostalgic twinge for him. But he’d only been away for a few months, and had been back just three weeks previous for Thanksgiving. Besides, in small towns the only thing that changed was watching as faces grew older. He rolled through the stop sign after a moment, taking a left a short distance up the road, turning into his own driveway a moment later.

His mother was on the porch to greet him, smiling and waving as he got out of the car. He waved back, unsurprised when she hurried barefoot across the dry winter grass of the front lawn to envelope him in a hug. She exclaimed about how much he’d grown—like he’d really grown at all since Thanksgiving—and picked up the thread of their phone conversation easily, asking him about classes and friends and tests and filling him in on small town news as he carried his bags into the house.

“And someone finally moved into the old Johnson place about two weeks ago—“ She carried on, raising her voice as she moved into the kitchen and he took the short hall down to the bedroom. “The most untraditional family but they’re nice and James do you want a slice of cake?”

He laughed, shaking his head slightly, leaving his bedroom and leaning in the open kitchen doorway. “Mom, mom. I’m not gonna be leaving for three weeks. You don’t have to tell me everything today.” He assured her, blue eyes darting around the kitchen. No new fridge, then. “I’ll have some cake, sure. Let’s eat it on the back patio, okay?” He stepped into the room, opening a cupboard and blinking in surprise. “Rearranged?”

“A kitchen isn’t a kitchen unless a man can’t find his way around it, James.” His mother corrected, ducking under his outstretched arm and opening the cupboard next to his. She’d apparently swapped the plates and glasses since Thanksgiving, then. He pulled down two plates for her, carrying them towards the back of the house once there was a slice of cake on each.

“Sweet tea?”

“Yes, please, mom.” Ryan smiled, the perfectly charming southern boy, trying not to salivate at the thought of his mother’s sweet tea. The stuff in the soda machines at college just didn’t compare.

They sat on the back patio, eating chocolate cake and chatting about mostly inconsequential things that had been happening since Thanksgiving. She let him in on the Christmas plans as they stood so far—everyone gathering together at his aunt’s home the afternoon before for the family party, bring food and presents, the usual fare. They’d have a quieter Christmas at home, just the three of them. Ryan figured he’d try to get together with his friends from high school sometime around then, but he definitely planned to see them for New Year’s. Being eighteen didn’t quite make it fun to go into the city, but there was always a parent willing to turn a blind eye to some drinking as long as no one was driving. His own mother had done that plenty of times.

“Someone bought the Johnson house?” He asked, sipping his tea and looking to the house that stood across from theirs, on the next street over, back yards butting together separated by a low rock wall. There was a light on in there for the first time since he’d been a freshman in high school.

“Yes, I told you. A nice family, though a bit… well, let’s just say untraditional.” His mother waved a hand, pointing towards the large wood sculpture in the back yard. “The wife owns an art gallery in the city, makes wood pieces with a chainsaw. Ramsey, I think the name is…” Ryan settled into listening to his mother talk, the words losing focus, the gentle flow of her voice soothing like waves on the beach.

They went inside and he tried to help cook dinner, being shooed off almost immediately and laughingly told to relax. Ryan didn’t protest, though honestly he couldn’t think of anything more relaxing than chatting with his mother while she cooked and he tried not to be in the way.

His father came home and they sat in the living room, talking about sports and weather until dinner was announced to be ready. They ate heartily, had freshly made pecan pie for dessert—another of his weaknesses, Ryan noted with a small groan—and settled into an evening routine of television and conversation.

It was as his parents were going to bed that Ryan remembered the end of the phone call from earlier, and he lifted an eyebrow. “Hey, mom? What’s that surprise you were talking about on the phone?”

His mother paused in the doorway, frowning slightly and tapping her chin in thought before her eyes lit up. “Oh! You’ll meet him tomorrow.” She exclaimed, smiling widely and turning into her bedroom. “Goodnight, James, try not to stay up too late.”

“Him?” He questioned, shrugging and heading into his own room. He settled into the comfort of his own bed, laptop on his chest and a sleepy smile on his face. It was good to be home.

–

He’d forgotten about the conversation by the time he stumbled from his room the next morning (late morning, really, almost afternoon). Bleary eyes focused solely on the warming coffee pot, sleep-deadened fingers pulling a mug from the rack next to the pot and filling it. He lifted the mug, drinking slowly before setting it down again, sighing.

With a bit of caffeine in him, Ryan noticed the quiet of the kitchen. He looked around, unsurprised to see a note in his mother’s careful script stuck to the fridge.

_James,_

_Gone into town for groceries, expect to be back around noon. Help yourself to breakfast or wait for me and we’ll have lunch together._

_Love, Mom_

_PS – we’ll go shopping together for things that you want later._

He smiled a little at the note, especially the post-script. His mother really was far too keen on spoiling him, sometimes. Not that he complained about it.

Making a second cup of coffee, this one with cream and sugar, Ryan took his laptop onto the back porch, deciding to enjoy the sunshine and clean air while he browsed the Internet. It was amazing how easily he fell into the routines of home life, especially compared to the often hectic schedule he’d had in college, the careful balance of friends and classes and free time. There was no rush here, something he enjoyed immensely.

The sound of a car engine in the driveway had him on his feet, moving through the house and opening the front door for his mother, immediately taking grocery bags from her. He followed her instructions putting away the groceries, letting himself be sent back outside with a soda while she prepared lunch for them.

To his surprise, there was a person sitting on the back patio, diligently tapping keys on his laptop. Ryan raised an eyebrow, leaning on the doorway. “Uh… Can I help you?” He asked, looking the scrawny, sandy-haired boy over.

Green eyes met his, wide with surprise. “Bloody hell, you scared the bollocks out of me!” The boy squeaked out, jumping down from the chair and narrowing his eyes suspiciously. “Are you James? Where’s mum?”

British. Very British. Ryan felt a twinge of a migraine for a reason he couldn’t quite put his finger on. “Who are you?”

“I’m Gavin!”

He stared expectantly at the younger man, waiting for more information, sighing when he realized that nothing else was going to be offered.

“Right, well…”

“Mum!” The boy called, moving past him into the house with a wide smile. He kicked his shoes off at the door, treading in sock feet across the living room like he lived there or something.

Ryan followed, wondering if this was what a nervous breakdown felt like.

–

They sat on the patio fifteen minutes later eating lunch, Gavin chatting away excitedly, Ryan and his mother having a very intense though very much silent conversation with their eyes across the table.

Gavin, it turned out, was the teenaged son of the Ramsey’s (though he was quick to point out that he wasn’t really their son, but his parents thought that living with Geoff and Griffon would be good for him—stabilizing, whatever that was supposed to mean) who Ryan’s mom had promptly adopted as partly her own, no doubt using the energetic high school freshman to fill in a gap that had been left when her only son had left for college.

“So what are you at university for, anyways, Ryan?” Gavin asked, finally deciding to turn the subject away from himself. He leaned his elbows on the table, chin in his palms, staring at Ryan with an intense expression.

“Uh… computer science.” Ryan shifted his eyes away from that intense green gaze, looking down to his plate and poking half-heartedly at his lunch. “Programming mostly, but I also like building PCs.”

“Oh, top!” Gavin squeaked out, bouncing in his chair a bit. “I really like computers and gaming and stuff! We should play Minecraft together sometime.”

That earlier migraine was starting to make sense. “Maybe, but I don’t know.” He didn’t really want to hang out with a fourteen-year-old, no matter how close to ‘adopted brother’ status his mother had made the kid. “I’m kinda busy and stuff…”

“But you’re on vacation right now.” His mom cut in with a smile, clearing their plates and excusing herself to load the dishwasher. Ryan eyed Gavin, sighing slightly.

“You have an account?” He offered, standing from the table and nodding towards the house. “You can borrow my laptop and we can play LAN for a while, I’ll play on my desktop.”

“Of course! Oh, this’ll be fun!” Gavin followed him inside, staring up at him like he was some sort of god. Ryan tried not to sigh too loudly.

They did have fun, though, spending the afternoon building and fighting in the game. Gavin, it turned out, was a bit of a shit. His first act was to make a bucket, find lava, and fill the house Ryan had spent the better part of an hour building with lava. He’d rolled his chair back from the desk, swinging an arm around the thin boy’s shoulders and promptly ruffling up his already-messy sandy hair in a gesture that was more affectionate than annoyed.

“Ah, hey, watch it!” Gavin squawked out, flailing his arms and sighing. “You’re worse than Geoff!”

A light knock at the door, the two looking up in surprise. Ryan’s mom offered a smile. “Sorry to interrupt, boys, but it’s getting close to supper time. You better get home, Gavin.”

They signed off the game, Ryan standing with his mom, watching the kid sprint across the yard, almost fall over the low wall, and actually fall in his own backyard. He sighed, rubbing his temples.

“Don’t start, James. He’s nice.” His mom chided, lightly swatting his arm.

“He’s a handful. I’ve known him for five hours and I can tell already.”

“Maybe… but Gavin’s a good kid. Tries hard and is always smiling.”

Ryan frowned slightly, checking his watch. “I’m gonna grab a shower before dinner, that alright?”

“Of course. Supper will be on the table in half an hour.”

–

Gavin came over almost every day, at least for a few minutes. He would sit at the table or on the couch, swinging his legs and talking excitedly about anything that happened to be on his mind. The subject was often nonsense, and Ryan found himself restraining from rolling his eyes or getting into an extended argument about math and science. But it was nice, sometimes, listening to someone talk who wasn’t trying to prove anything about themselves. Gavin didn’t seem to care if others thought he was smart or not (“can’t be bothered with it” was his exact phrasing when Ryan asked), unlike nearly everyone Ryan had been around for the past four months.

And they bonded, in an odd way, as Christmas drew closer and the days of Ryan’s winter break stretched empty before him. They’d play video games together, either on Ryan’s computer and laptop or over at Gavin’s house on his Xbox. If anyone thought the friendship between them was weird, it wasn’t commented on. Geoff and Griffon Ramsey had shrugged nonchalantly when Ryan introduced himself, saying that he was welcome over at any time. And from the looks of things, Gavin didn’t have any friends from school to question it; everyone that he talked about being friends with he addressed as a screen name, and had introduced Ryan to most of them via a gaming session.

“So…” Ryan took a sip of his sweet tea, looking over to Gavin where the younger man lay sprawled on the couch, idly kicking his feet with his face mostly buried in a pillow. “Don’t you have school or something?”

Gavin looked up, blinking those incredibly vivid eyes of his, the color today more gray than green, matching the dull outside weather perfectly. “Oh, that? Nah.” He waved a hand dismissively. Ryan raised an eyebrow, but didn’t delve any deeper into it.

After a few moments of quiet, Gavin sighed. “You’re not gonna ask?”

“You don’t seem to want to talk about it.” He shrugged, setting his drink aside and kicking his feet onto the coffee table.

“Most people ask anyways.” Gavin turned his head to the side, staring out the back door at the rain pounding onto the patio. “Most people wanna know if I got kicked out or failed out or what.”

“If you wanted to tell me, you’d tell me.” And maybe the kid did want to tell him, Ryan thought, the way he kept bringing it up. But he could be stubborn, as their days-long argument about the probably of a coin flip proved, and he wasn’t going to ask.

“You don’t ask a lot of questions about people, do you, Ryan?”

“I like to observe and learn about people without just asking them. It feels more… genuine.” He lifted his drink again, taking another sip. “I guess that’s just always been my thing.”

“I kinda like it.” Gavin offered a tentative smile, before looking back to the rain and sighing. “Weather like this reminds me of home.”

“In a good way?”

“Some days. Other days it’s not as good.” Arms wrapping around the pillow, the British teen wiggled around to get more comfortable. “You wanna put on a movie or something?”

“Movie sounds good.” He pulled up the Netflix queue, scrolling through and selecting the first movie that Gavin gasped to see.

Maybe he could sort of understand why his mother had taken such a liking to this weird kid. While he was definitely a headache, he was obviously more than what he let off at first. Ryan could just picture his mom wanting to dote on this kid.

If he was being honest, he felt the same way.


End file.
